


A long night in New Orleans

by DeadGaze



Category: Geist: The Sin-Eaters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 13:14:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28867590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeadGaze/pseuds/DeadGaze
Summary: A sort of introduction for a character I played in World of Darkness.
Kudos: 1





	A long night in New Orleans

**Author's Note:**

> A sort of introduction for a character I played in World of Darkness.

Dalas sucked in another drag from his cigarette. Held it. Then breathed out. Hecter was chittering about some craving he was having, Lisa May, a 56 year old whose husband had a few too many 4 nights ago, was going into some rather gruesome detail about what she expected that man should receive as a just punishment, and Dalas’ phone kept going off with things his wife wanted to distract him with. It was going to be a long night. It just got started too. With the sun down came the witching hour, a good time to get in touch with the other side. A good time to talk. Or rather. Be talked at. Incessantly. For hours. Dalas’ method was talk therapy. That meant he spent a lot of his time talking about what it means to be human, and what is important for a ghost to pass on. That was his line of work after all. But the sheer amount of words that he had to process at this time. Too much. First of all he shut up Hecter with a hand to his mouth. Enough was enough. Second of all he had to shut off his phone. As much as he loved his wife, he was busy. Next he had to assure this chick that no, he was not the sort to go around bashing skulls in to appease the dead. One skull was rarely enough for these ghoulish pricks, and the bitch had to be reigned in. She was going into which items she expected him to use, which clearly suggests that this is something she’s been meditating on for quite a while. Which means this relationship has been screwed for a while. “Hey lady. Enough of the murder talk alright? Your husband lives. Get over it.” Not his best work but it got her to stop talking for a second. Long enough to take a final pull before flicking the cig through the disrespectful specter.

“How rude. I thought you bound wanted to help us ghosts.” She knows what a Geist is? More importantly she knows what they often do.

“How would you know?” pointed, a little uncouth but hopefully it gets her talking.

“Another one of your sort came to talk to me. Said she didn’t have time for my sort. So she referred me to you.”

“Correction, I got called here at 3 in the afternoon, it is now, 8 in the evening, and we are no closer to getting down to what needs to happen to get you off this rock and out to the great beyond.”

“No, I’ve been telling you exactly what needs to happen and you’ve been blatantly ignoring me. If you had been listening at all, then you would have gotten in that car of yours and you would have driven to my old house and-” And like that she’s back on it. Jesus Christ she’s devoted to this idea. I wonder what she tastes like, Hecter we are not drinking this broad. But she seems to be bothering you, wouldn’t it be easier if she was just, gone? That’s not how this works and you know it. Just once? You wo- Enough Hecter.

“*Sigh*, Listen. You understand you’re dead right?”

“Yes?”

“So what makes you think you get the right to ruin someone else's life, now that you’re dead? What stopped you from following through on your twisted fantasy when you were still kicking?”

“Well, I loved him.”

“Did you? ‘Cause you shouldn’t plan on killing your beloved paramour. Speaking from experience.”

“But his drinking.”

“Yeah, but that’s still his problem. Not yours. That’s something that he’s going to have to deal with the consequences for the rest of his miserable life. That’s his punishment. How is it not enough that he killed his own wife while in a drunken stupor, and the only thing he has to blame is his own lack of self control.”

“You don’t get it. That bastard wanted me dead. Why else would he have swung at me. Your probably don’t even know what it feels like. To be turned on by someone you love more than life itself, and to have them take it away from you. The betrayal. How could you understand.”

“I’ve died once.”

“What?”

“I’ve died once. It’s how Geist's are born. You want to know why? Because I was betrayed by the person I thought loved me most. That betrayal shook me to my core. The only difference between you and me is that I was the one holding the bottle that killed me.” She goes silent. Cowed a little by realization. A little perspective.

“But, you got a second chance.”

“Yeah. Yeah I did, and I decided to spend it on saving people like you that think the afterlife is one last chance at getting back at your former loved ones”

“How come you got lucky?”

“Lucky? You call have to tote around this freak is lucky.” Dalas points to Hecter. Hecter waves. A nude and anorexic thing, no face save for a mouth that is always smiling. Big teeth, long fingers, and has a tendency to ‘sit’ in bizarre positions to affect an uncanny visage. Not very pleasant company at the best of times. “Trust me when I tell you that if you got a geist for what you went through you wouldn’t consider yourself so lucky. You’d have a constant voice urging you to kill people, children, women, men, wouldn’t matter, so long as you were killing it. Does that sound like a good time to you?”  
“That does sound a little unpleasant.” Progress. “But what about my current state of affairs?”

“Well you’re dead. That means that your ties in the mortal world need to be dealt with. So that you can pass on.”

“You’ve explained that to me, but why should I want to leave?” Ugh, not one of these.

“Once your business has been tended to, what reason would you have to stay.”

“What if I make new business.”

“Then another less kindly bound will come along and deal with you in a fashion most unbecoming. Do you want to learn what it means to be erased?”

“Heavens no.”

“Then I suggest we start with the basics. What ties you to this world?”

“My dastardly, conniving-”

“Your husband yes. But what do you hold dear, what drove you in life?

“Well, there was my dog, my fling, my work,-” God this was going to be a long night. I wonder if Selora is having a better time fitting in. He turned his phone back on. Oh damn. She scored a bedmate for tonight. A looker to, Kirstin huh? Well I’ll have to ask her about it when I get home.


End file.
